


Under the Table

by Infinitefleurs



Category: L.A. Noire
Genre: Blow Jobs, Car Sex, Finger Sucking, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Sex, again roy earle is such a bottom!, this is like so much i feel scandalized
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-27 18:27:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14431527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Infinitefleurs/pseuds/Infinitefleurs
Summary: Stefan wanted Roy absolutely marked. He’d fuck him up so much he’d see stars. He’d make sure Roy wouldn’t be able to sit right.All he wanted was Roy screaming out his name.





	Under the Table

**Author's Note:**

> shoutout to aj and oni, love u guys ;^)

Roy’s fingers tap incessantly on the table, in tune with the soft music playing in the background. Eventually he’s humming along, and it turns into quiet singing. He hears Elsa vaguely, but there’s something different in the way she sings. He could only assume it had something to do with…

_ Phelps. _

Right. That happened. He inhales inwardly and gives the Blue Room another scan. He had to admit, it was weird to see Stefan where Cole had once sat. When he warned him about poking around in the Suburban Redevelopment. He supposes he had something to do with the whole mess, but if only Phelps had just  _ listened _ . He shortly realizes he’s stopped singing and opts for a cigarette, but he doesn’t light it. Letting the stick dangle between his lips, he turns his attention to Stefan.

“So, Bekowsky. How’s Vice treating you?”

Stefan could only shrug. He had barely been in Homicide before the Chief decided he was Vice boy material. Was that how Cole felt? He frowns at the thought of the other man. Cole. He could only wonder what he’d say about him getting transferred to Vice, and being partnered with Roy Earle, at that. Would he have gotten a pat on the back? A word of caution? Stefan would never know. Sparing the other a small glance, he replies.

“Well enough, I suppose. Wasn’t even in Homicide long before getting transferred here. You didn’t ask for me either, did you?” Stefan raises an eyebrow, watching the unlit cigarette dangle between Roy’s lips.

“Have a little faith in yourself, would you? I’ve heard good things about you, Bekowsky. They say you’re a good case man. Ever thought of becoming the LAPD’s new golden boy? It suits you.”

“Oh, give it a rest, Roy. I always knew you were a talker but I didn’t think y ou were  _ this _ much of a chatterbox,” Stefan rolls his eyes. “But if that’s what they think then so be it. Then again, if they really did think that I doubt I would’ve been in Patrol for as long as I did.”

“And you say I’m the chatterbox?” Roy quips, finally lighting his cigarette and taking a drag. “But I don’t think you’ve mentioned that bit to me. Just how long in Patrol have you been exactly?”

“Six years. How long have you been in Vice?”

Roy sits quietly for a moment, setting his cigarette in the ashtray. His eyes go over Bekowsky, his brows furrowed in the slightest. His eyes were...certainly striking. They weren’t the kind of blues that Cole had, but they were still quite something other. He didn’t look too badly built either. He fakes a cough, taking a sip from his scotch before his thoughts wandered too far.

“Honestly, Stefan, I’ve lost count. Ten years? Maybe a little more. You’re the first to get a definite number, so count yourself lucky.”

“I’m honored. No, really, I am. But god, you’ve really been in the game that long, huh? Any...partners before Phelps?”

“I wasn’t aware that was something you needed to know, Bekowsky. But yeah, just one. The lieutenant. We were partners...and then we weren’t. It’s not something I’d get up in arms about, though.”

“Did that ever get...lonely?” Stefan asks, his eyes glued on the other.   


“What’s that supposed to mean, Bekowsky?” Roy narrows his eyes, about to say something else but he stops when he feels a foot rubbing against his leg. He raises an eyebrow at the younger man, who seemed to have a mischievous look on his face. “...Alright, what exactly are you getting at?”

“...You know, Earle, I’ve been listening to you talk all night. Don’t you think you have a better use for that mouth of yours?”

Roy stares at him for a moment before cracking a crooked grin. “You could’ve spared me the chit  chat and asked sooner, Bekowsky. Awfully bold of you to attempt that here, of all places. Didn’t think you had it in you.”

“Jesus, Roy, are you getting under the table or not?”

“Alright, alright. Didn’t peg you to be the impatient type, you know.” Roy rolls his eyes before he drops a fork, pretending to look for it as he discreetly goes under the table. He’d be lying if he said the whole thing didn’t give him a bit of adrenaline. He was quick to undo Stefan’s trousers with the neediness of a thirsty man that needed water.

Licking his dry lips, Roy reaches over and takes Stefan’s shaft out of his pants. He holds back a gasp; Stefan was certainly more... _ gifted  _ that he had anticipated. Nevertheless, he leans in and takes the other into his mouth. It doesn’t take long for him to get an even pace going and his hands are stroking whatever isn’t in his mouth.

Stefan nearly gasps, but he keeps himself from doing so by biting on his knuckles. He would’ve asked Roy how he’d even possibly get this good at what he was doing. He nearly reaches under the table to pull on his hair, but remembers where they are and he refrains. Fortunately enough, no one seemed to notice how much Roy was making him squirm. Instead, he opts to give the other a small, gentle nudge and hopes it comes off as a praise.

Roy seems to get the message well enough and it pushes him to work harder. Letting out a quiet groan, he takes in just a bit more, nearly gagging in the process. Pulling away for a moment, Roy lets out what sounds like a chuckle while lazily stroking Stefan in compensation. “God, Bekowsky,” Roy murmurs, pressing a few kisses to the head. “I didn’t think your cock was  _ this  _ good...you’re gonna let me have a feel of this, won’t you?”

Stefan’s eyes widen and he gives Roy a little kick, although it wasn’t nearly enough to actually hurt him. He gently bites down on his lip, a hand gripping the table. Nudging Roy again, he hushes him. “Maybe if you do a good job here, I’ll consider it.”

The promise of that alone seems to set Roy off and he quickly returns to the other. He’s already hard himself but he sets it aside for now and focuses on Stefan with the determination of a man on a mission. His tie’s become undone sometime in the middle of all of this, along with the first few buttons of his shirt.

Stefan’s come undone as well, and at this point he’s certain he’s gotten a few stares already. Not that he noticed, how could he when all he could think about was Roy’s mouth on him, in all the right places. “ _ Jesus, _ ” he hisses, quickly reaching up to undo his tie, breathing out. “Fuck, Roy, I’m gonna-”

“Do it. That’s what you want, isn’t it? Do it right in my mouth, Bekowsky.”

Stefan supposes he should’ve pegged Roy as a dirty talker. Regardless, there’s something attractive with the way he says it. God, it was so hard to think when Roy keeps going at him like that, and before he knows it, his head is on the table and he’s letting out a groan he’s certain more than a few people can hear. With a shudder of his hips, he releases right into Roy’s mouth.

Making a sound that was less than dignified, Roy pulls away after having swallowed most of it. Easing back into his chair, he could only grin at how much of a mess Stefan was. Wiping the corner of his mouth, he casually takes a sip from his scotch. “So, Bekowsky. How’d I do?”

It takes Stefan a few moments to catch his breath, but when he does, he fixes himself up as best he could before standing. Giving Roy a look that was quite mischievous, he tugs on the older man’s arm. “Let’s get out of here.”

“God,  _ finally _ . You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to say that. Let’s go.”

However, just  _ getting  _ to Roy’s car alone was easier said than done with Roy being unable to keep his hands off Bekowsky for more than a minute. Stefan was just relieved at the fact that the street was practically lifeless by now; he had a strong feeling they wouldn’t be making it very far. Once they were there, Roy was almost immediately pinned to the car, Stefan harshly nipping and biting at his neck. Roy doesn’t stop the groan that comes out of his mouth when Stefan rolls his hips against his.

“Christ, Bekowsky,” Roy gasps, his greedy hands already on the buttons of Stefan’s shirt. “At least wait until we’re  _ in  _ the car, would you?” He moans again when he feels Bekowsky’s rough hands all over him. He uses his free hand to feel for the car door, stumbling inside when it opens. He’s barely got the roof up when Stefan’s straddling him again and unbuttoning his shirt completely.

“Tell me exactly, Roy, just how long have you been waiting for this?”   
  
Roy swallows hard; it was damn impossible to be able to say  _ anything  _ with Stefan’s mouth all over him. “Would it — ” he gasps when Bekowsky bites down on a particular spot. “ —be bad if I say since I went under the table?”

“I figured as much, Earle.” Stefan nearly scoffs, easily slipping out his suit and button up, moving to get rid of Roy’s trousers next. “You’re a needy little thing, aren’t you?” He mutters, undressing himself with a certain finesse.

“ _ Hurry it up, Stefan, _ ” Roy practically whines, his arms wrapped around the other’s neck. “You’re killin’ me here. I’ve been  _ dying  _ to get a feel of you, y’know?”   
  
“You ever do anything besides complain, Roy? Stefan doesn’t bother waiting for another quip from the other before roughly thrusting into him. The sound Roy makes along with the subtle arch of his back is more than pleasing to him. He doesn’t move quite yet, however, giving Roy a few moments to adjust.

Roy’s more than thankful for it and he waits for the initial sting to subside before digging his nails into Stefan’s back. “God, okay- Move,  _ please, _ ” he utters, although it almost sounds like begging rather than just a request. He emphasizes on it when he tries bucking his hips against Stefan’s, and it makes both of them groan.

Stefan starts to pick up an even pace, his hands tightly gripping Roy’s hips. He leans in, kissing and biting the other wherever he could. He wanted Roy absolutely  _ marked. _ He’d fuck him up so much he’d see stars. He’d make sure Roy wouldn’t be able to sit right.

Roy couldn’t even speak let alone _think_ properly. All he could even manage to do was moan out Stefan’s name, his hair all messed up and his neck and collarbone completely filled with bruises. “...Fuck, don’t- don’t stop, Bekowsky,” he eventually manages, swallowing hard. “ _Go_ _harder._ ”

“Christ, Roy, how loud can you get? Keep it down, will you?” Stefan’s hand trails up, giving him a gentle caress on the cheek, but the moment doesn’t last long when Stefan sticks two of his fingers into his mouth. “Do something other than talk.”

Roy is quick to comply, groaning at the feeling of the other’s fingers exploring every crevice of his mouth. It’s not long before he feels a warmth pool into his gut and he gasps. Once Bekowsky’s fingers were out of his mouth, he speaks. “S-Stefan, I’m gonna-” he starts, but Stefan cuts him off.

“Yeah, me too.” Stefan quickly nods in agreement and he starts to pick up the pace, biting down on his lip so hard it nearly bled. Soon enough, he feels the same warmth Roy does and he releases with a deep groan, Roy following him soon after. Stefan pulls away from him, panting heavily. “...We should get out of here before we get caught.”

It takes Roy a few moment before he manages to speak, breathing heavily. “I- Yeah. Your place or mine?” He asks in between small gasps.

Stefan looks at him and almost laughs. “My place. Now move aside, Earle. You’re in  _ no  _ state to drive right now.”


End file.
